Moonlight spilled like silk across the room, soft and cold, wrapping Seria's figure in an ethereal glow. Her silver hair shimmered like stardust, cascading past her shoulders to frame a face painted with hesitation. She didn't meet Ryuji's gaze directly—her eyes drifted, unsure, while her cheeks burned with a blush that betrayed her trembling heart.
She stood barefoot, wrapped in nothing but a thin, green slip dress and the faintest hint of courage. The fabric clung loosely to her chest, doing nothing to hide the soft curves underneath—or the way her nipples pressed gently against the cloth. Every shift of her body made the dress sway, revealing more of her thighs than she probably intended.
She held a blanket across her stomach, not to cover herself, but like a child clutching a charm for protection. Her shoulders were bare, the strap of her dress slipping slightly as if her body had no intention of resisting what was to come.
She'd made her choice.
"…Um…"
Her voice was quiet, feather-soft, almost drowned by the wind outside the inn's walls. Then, after a breathless pause:
"Mr. Ryuji… I… I came to repay you."
Her words didn't match the purity of her appearance—but they weren't forced. They carried the kind of sincerity that made a man stop and wonder just how deeply she'd thought about this.
She knew money wasn't enough. Equipment like his—gear that gleamed with rare enhancements and battle-worn power—was worth more than her family could dream of. Linus had nothing left. And Seria didn't want to be a burden anymore.
She stepped forward.
Ryuji didn't speak.
He should have. He should've told her this wasn't necessary. That she didn't owe him anything. That she didn't need to cross this line.
But he didn't.
He couldn't.
Because Seria wasn't just a girl. She was the anchor—the spiritual core of this world. The one every path seemed to circle back to. The one untouched by war and yet forever woven into its center. He knew her across stories, across timelines.
If a mere street brawler had given him so much energy…
What could Seria offer?
The undisputed heroine of this world?
He had no doubts about her importance. In every iteration of this world, Seria was pivotal—the first woman you met (unless you counted the repair shop auntie). Recent whispers even suggested she wasn't just an Apostle, but the largest fragment of the Great Will itself.
Not that he cared much for lore. His focus had always been on raw power—how hard he could hit, how much he could take.
But now, faced with her trembling form, he wavered.
Then again… if things went south, he could always run.
And she had come to him.
With a smirk, he slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her slight frame against him. She shuddered but didn't resist, melting into his embrace with a quiet submission.
The moment her scent hit him, Ryuji nearly groaned. It was intoxicating—fresh, sweet, pure in a way he'd never experienced. Even in a world of beautiful women, Seria stood apart.
Ryuji's lips brushed her ear.
"...Come, Seria," he murmured, voice low and hungry. "I'll make sure you enjoy this."
She let out a breath that trembled, then melted against him.
His hand trailed downward—slow, deliberate—until it found the round curve of her ass. She was small, but not fragile. Soft in all the right ways, with the kind of warmth that made his grip tighten almost instinctively.
She gasped, cheeks burning, but nodded.
"Y-yes… I'm… looking forward to it."
She didn't understand why she needed this so badly. Only that Ryuji was different. That she had to give herself to him. The compulsion overrode all reason, driving her to his room in the dead of night.
Now, nestled against him, her body burned in ways she couldn't explain. His warmth, his scent—just being near him set her aflame. She dismissed it as nerves. After all, for all her knowledge, she was still just a girl.
Ryuji's fingers slipped beneath her dress, skimming over the smooth plane of her stomach. No fat, no flaws—just cool, supple skin under his calloused touch.
Then, deliberately slow, he traced lower.
Seria's breath hitched.
She was trembling.
So was he.
When his fingers brushed the hem of her undergarments, he paused. Not a single strand of hair met his touch. At her age, that could only mean one thing—
Completely untouched.
Curiosity flared. He dipped lower.
His hand moved lower, brushing just above the edge of innocence.
She let her eyes fall shut.
Her legs parted slightly—just enough.
He slipped his fingers under the last barrier.
Her body tensed, every nerve alight. The rough pad of his finger traced her entrance, teasing the tightly sealed folds apart with agonizing gentleness.
For most women, such a light touch would barely register.
Seria convulsed.
"Ah~!"
Her back arched, a shock of pleasure seizing her. Instinctively, she buried her face in his chest, nails digging into his shirt. The sensation was overwhelming—foreign, electric, too much—yet all she wanted was more.
She didn't understand this hunger. Only that she needed him inside her, filling her, claiming her.
The realization should have shamed her. Instead, it sent a fresh wave of heat between her thighs.
"Mr. Ryuji saved me," she whispered, as if justifying her own desperation. "I have to repay him."
When she lifted her gaze, her eyes swam with unshed tears, her lips trembling.
She wanted a kiss.
A proper one. The kind from the stories she'd secretly adored.
Ryuji obliged.
The moment their lips met, Seria melted. Her mouth was hot, demanding, his tongue sweeping past her shy defenses to claim hers. The taste of her—mixed with something unique, something sweet and addictive.
Ryuji groaned.
He'd kissed plenty of women. None compared to this.
Three minutes in, oxygen became a secondary concern. When they finally broke apart, both were breathless.
Not that it lasted. Their lips crashed together again, hungrier this time.
And Ryuji's fingers?
They returned to her entrance, circling, pressing—
Seria's eyes flew wide.
A gush of warmth soaked his hand, her body answering without hesitation.
When he pulled back this time, his fingers glistened.
Ryuji smirked.
"You really are juicy and deliciously ."
He brought his fingers to his lips, tasting her, and Seria's eyes widened in shock.
But what surprised him even more was the flavor—unlike anything he had experienced before.
The taste hit him like a revelation.
Not just sweet. Heavenly.
Even Tsunade, with her genes, had only carried a faint sweetness. But Seria's taste was different—indescribably rich, intoxicating, as if every drop was more enticing than the finest honey or wine. And the moment it touched his tongue, warmth spread through him, leaving him craving more.
Now that he thought about it, he had sensed something similar when their tongues had tangled earlier, but he had been too lost in the heat of the moment to notice.
As he savored the lingering taste, Seria felt like she might faint from embarrassment. Yet, seeing how much Ryuji enjoyed her body, a strange, giddy happiness bubbled inside her.
"Um…"
She tugged lightly at his sleeve, and he leaned down to meet her gaze.
"Ryu…Ryuji" Her voice was barely a whisper, her face burning. "D-do you… really like it?"
But as he looked at the adorable girl before him, he pushed those thoughts aside. His desire was at its peak now—whether she tasted good or not was a matter for later.
There would be plenty of time to savor Seria's flavor in the future.
But for the first time…
He wanted her to enjoy it properly. After all, she had come to him willingly—she deserved a gentle experience. As for the more intense plays he had in mind? Those could wait.
With that thought, he scooped Seria up in a princess carry, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
"Yes, I love it. I love everything about your body, Seria. I could even eat you right up."
A wave of dizzying happiness crashed over her. Then, as Ryuji gently laid her down on the narrow single bed, she knew—there was no turning back now.
She obediently reclined, though her legs instinctively pressed together, her fair feet crossing shyly.
With a playful grin, he took hold of Seria's delicate ankle, then trailed his fingers up her slender calf. The shape of her legs was exquisite—smooth and graceful. As he lifted one pale thigh, he deliberately adjusted her position just enough to part her legs slightly, allowing the flickering lamplight to illuminate the glistening traces left on her inner skin.
Just as I thought—perfect.
Not only was her form flawless, but her snow-white thighs bore tiny, shimmering streaks—translucent dew clinging to her soft flesh, tracing tantalizing paths that begged to be tasted.
"I am going to start, Seria," he murmured, mischief lacing his voice.
"Mmm…"
Eyes tightly shut, Seria fought to keep herself from trembling too much. Her fingers clutched the bedsheet as Ryuji's touch traveled upward—from her toes, along the arch of her foot, past her ankle, and finally to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Every inch of his exploration sent electric sparks dancing through her nerves.
At last, with her quiet cooperation, the straps of her dress loosened and slipped away. Even behind closed eyelids, she could feel the heat of Ryuji's ragged breath against her face. When she finally dared to open her eyes, his smoldering gaze locked onto hers—and instinctively, her hands flew to cover her chest.
But then…
She changed the motion into an embrace, pulling him closer instead.
~~~~~~~
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